Mistletoe and Mayhem: A cosy, chaotic Christmas read!

I stare at him in horror. ‘It was that loud?’

‘Well, yes.’ He grins and runs a hand through his curly brown hair. ‘Apparently the people in Norway heard it, too.’

‘Oh, God, sorry!’

‘Hey, don’t worry. They enjoyed it. That top note.’ He shakes his head admiringly. ‘Stunning. It got me thinking, actually. How would you and your flatmate feel about joining my Christmas choir?’

‘Your choir? Are you a musician, then?’

He nods modestly. ‘I’d like to think so.’

‘Do you play an instrument?’

‘Quite a few. Piano, saxophone, trumpet.’

‘Violin?’

He looks surprised. ‘Yes, actually.’

‘And you have a choir as well?’

‘Just for the festive season. There’s only six of us so far but I’m trying to recruit more people. We’ll sing Christmas songs and visit old folks’ homes, kids in hospital, that kind of thing.’

‘How wonderful.’

He smiles and his eyes light up. ‘Just my way of giving something back to the community. Music is such great therapy. It can really lift the spirits, you know?’

I nod, thinking of Barb.

‘So can I count on you and Barbara, is it?’ He looks at me quizzically. ‘To be my new choir members?’

‘It’s Barb actually. I’ll ask her. It was her you heard, by the way, not me.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘But you’ll come too?’

‘Oh, I don’t think so.’

‘Why not? It’ll be amazing. Come on. Give it a go.’

His energy and sense of fun are infectious.

I can’t help thinking it probably will be amazing if Jasper’s in charge. And possibly lots of fun, too.

Fun is a concept that has been seriously lacking in my life for some time now.

Even when I was with Nathan, fun was never terribly high up the agenda. We were always either having early nights in preparation for the big event at the weekend. Or early nights because we were knackered from the big event …

I smile at him.

‘So you’ll do it? Yay!’ He punches the air.

And then, of course, I can’t possibly refuse because he looks so ridiculously delighted.

‘Rehearsal on Thursday night at Pottersdale Community Centre. I’ll give you both a lift. Leaving seven-thirty?’

‘Okay,’ I say, laughing.

He raises his hand and disappears.

Marvelling at the whirlwind that was Jasper, I lock up and put the keys in my bag. I feel suddenly energised. Sort of lighter in spirit with renewed optimism about the future. Meeting some new people and getting to know Jasper might be just the tonic I need right now.

It’s only when I’m half-way along the high street that it suddenly dawns on me.

Bloody hell. I’ve just agreed to join a choir.

Just one minor glitch in my brilliant plan.

I’m a totally rubbish singer.

That’s what my brother, Rob, tells me, anyway.

When we were kids, he used to zap me with his Power Ranger and stuff his fingers in his ears whenever I so much as sang along to an advert on TV.

Jasper described Barb’s high note as ‘stunning’.

If I were to attempt it, I’d definitely stun the populace for miles around.

But not in a good way.

Still, it’s ages till Thursday. Plenty of time to think up an excuse not to go.